


What It Means To Be A Puff

by CC_Bean



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Multi, Rating May Change, Relationship will be added as they come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 20:35:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9565247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CC_Bean/pseuds/CC_Bean
Summary: The sorting hat knew the next seven years would be something to watch when four boys sat on a stool and he was placed on their head one by one. Hufflepuff was in for a treat. Some people may wonder what it takes to be sorted into Hufflepuff, most thinkin that it only happens when you don't truly fit anywhere else. They would be wrong. It's true, the house of gold and black takes in all kinds, but that doesn't just mean anyone who doesn't belong in one of the the other three houses. It means that puffs come in many forms, and these four, as different as they are, are as Hufflepuff as it gets.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is going to be a multi-chapter exploration of the hufflepuff boys throughout school and maybe a little after (I have a minor character weakness). Many other minor and major characters will pop up from all houses though, and as we get further in I'll add the relationship tags as well. Let me know what you think, I'm always looking for people to talk minor character with. This is probably the only chapter that's going to be broken up by character like this, simply because I wanted to go through each of their experiences with being sorted. Others chapters will be organized normally. Enjoy!

**Justin Finch-Fletchley knows everyone.**

He's talked to most of the first years by the time they leave the train and are ushered into the boats. He’d quickly made nice with the other students in his group, three girls and one boy. The twins, Parvati and Padma as they had introduced themselves (though he couldn’t remember which was which) had squished together on one side of the boat. Justin had slipped in next to a girl named Lisa and the boy who hadn't said much except for his name but had laughed at Justin’s terrible jokes on the train. The boat ride over was filled mostly with even  _ worse _ jokes because one of the twins (he really had to figure out which was which) seemed particularly nervous about the whole ordeal they were about to be put through.  

“I hope we don’t get separated”, the girl finally said, looking at her sister who so far, didn’t seem to share the same apprehensions about the sorting process.

“I’m sure it will be fine Padma”, her sister replied. 

“Even if you do, I’m sure you’ll see each other all the time. I bet the professors would even let you eat together if you wanted.” Justin looked sharply to his left, shocked to see the boy sitting next to him smiling gently at the girls. Justin was surprised he had said anything at all, having been fairly quiet during the short journey. Shortly after they had pulled up to the school, filing away from the water and into the castle.

Now, they’re all standing inside of the great hall, watching as students are called up one by one to have a suspicious old hat placed onto their head. Justin glances around at the group still waiting to be sorted. This method didn’t seem to be all that practical, and if he were honest he was most interested in the great feast that was supposed to be coming after everyone was sorted. He’d heard rumors of the event multiple times on the train, and his stomach was growling uncomfortably.

“Do you know how the hat does it? He looks to the left at the girl named Lisa, a muggleborn like him, who is standing on her toes to see above the crowd.

“Not really, he just knows I guess.” She doesn’t seem to be completely satisfied with his answer if the scrunch of her nose is any indication, but she doesn’t ask anymore questions.

“Finch-Fletchley, Justin.” When Justin hears his name he wastes no time making his way to the front. The stool is particularly hard and the hat is the slightest bit dusty, and he can’t help but think that the wizarding world seems extra weird already. There’s a slight rumble that takes Justin a moment to realize is coming from the object on his head. 

“HUFFLEPUFF”, it yells suddenly, already wiggling to be taken off of his head. Once the hat is removed, he doesn’t wait for the professor to point him in the right direction, he can already see students at one table in particular waving him over. When he approaches he makes his way to a part of the long bench that has been cleared for him, as he receives pats of congratulations from his new housemates.

 

**Wayne Hopkins doesn’t fit in.**

That became glaringly obvious on the train ride over. He laughs too loud, he gets excited too easily, and he knows too much. The first years clustered together in groups on the train and it was about halfway through the ride that Wayne looked up and realized he wasn’t a part of any of them.He had shuffled into the great hall knowing what was to come from months of research he had done since the moment he had received his letter. As the students crowded the front of the room, Wayne tried to explain to some of the other muggleborns what the sorting hat was, but he had barely gotten through the magical items history before people were muttering apologies and awkwardly shuffling away. Before he knew it, it was his turn. The boy currently sitting on the stool was just getting up to leave, and Wayne quickly straightened his robes and tried to smooth down his hair. Weeks of anticipation left his throat feeling dry as the crowd parted to let him through. This was his moment; there was just a step or two between him and the rest of his life so, naturally, he tripped. 

Instead of gracefully coming to stand in front of the stool upon which the sorting hat was placed, he narrowly avoided a full face plant as his foot got caught on the last step causing him to topple forward. He didn’t miss the chorus of laughter behind him. Red-faced, he straightened back up, sending the stern looking professor in front of him a nervous smile. 

“Please, take a seat Mr.Hopkins”, she said, lifting the hat from the stool. Wayne quickly did as he was told, happy to find that the hat easily covered his eyes, shielding him from the stares of the other students. 

“Hmmm, Mr.Hopkins”, the hat vibrated by his ears. Wayne found it almost funny that a hat was referring to him as “Mr” but he didn’t laugh. “I know exactly where you belong. HUFFLEPUFF!”

Wayne felt his breath catch in his throat as polite applause followed the sorting hat’s words. He looked in the direction the professor next to him was gesturing in. It was the same table that the boy in front of him had gone to. Wayne hopped off the stool as the professor lifted the hat off of his head, and quickly-but oh so  _ carefully _ -made his way to the table on the left.

 

**Ernest MacMillan hated Hogwarts.**

Well, it wasn’t that he  _ hated _ Hogwarts, it was more that Hogwarts wasn't his first choice of school that he wanted to attend. His family had spent the last 18 months in Toronto, and Ernest had secretly been hoping they’d be there long enough for him to attend Ilvermorny, the legendary school located in the States. Of course, his father’s work had required that they move to Wales a mere month before Ernest was set to start school and on only his second day back in Britain, Ernest has received a letter from Hogwarts. He had tried not to complain, after all it wasn’t as if Hogwarts was a  _ bad _ school, but the MacMillans had actually lasted over a year in one place (something that had not happened in many,  _ many _ years), and Ernest had been counting on his education in Ilvermorny keeping them there for good. 

It didn’t matter much now though, as he stood in the Great Hall, watching as student after student was sorted into their respective house. Having assumed he would be attending Ilvermorny, Ernest hadn’t done any research into the four Hogwarts houses and his father, having been the only one in his family to also attend, had been less than helpful when it came to supplying him with what Ernest deemed was important information. In the month preparing, he had only managed to find out that his own father had been in Ravenclaw, there was a fierce rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin, or was it Ravenclaw?, and that his parents would be happy no matter what house Ernest got sorted into. He had found that information relatively useless in deciding what he was supposed to make out of this whole sorting business. He didn’t think he’d have much time for any rivalries considering his studies so it was probably best to avoid Gryffindor and whichever house they were feuding with, and while he supposed it would be okay to follow in his fathers footsteps he also wouldn’t mind being placed somewhere completely different. All together Ernest’s attempts to make something out of these musings proved pointless as the sorting hat seemed to lack any rhyme or reason as he shouted house names with what Ernest considered to be near  _ reckless abandon _ . It was all too overwhelming.

And it was his turn.

“Macmillan, Ernest.” Ernest straightened out his robes as he made his way to the front, coming to stand before the stool. He offered a smile and slight nod towards the hat before taking a seat. He didn’t know much about the houses or the sorting hats demeanor, but he’d hate to be purposely placed in the wrong house because he was rude. As the professor lifted the hat to be placed on his head it seemed as if time slowed down, causing her arm to begin to descend in slow motion, bring the hat towards him millimeter by millimeter. Ernest held his breath, but refused to close his eyes as he anticipated the light weight of the object upon his head-but it never came. The sorting hat had just  _ barely _ grazed the tips of his curls before-

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

Ernest can't help the small gasp that follows the sorting hats words. That can’t be it. The whole thing lasted less than a  _ second _ , surely even a  _ magical _ item can’t know everything by barely touching the top of his head. Ernest was confounded. 

Still, he doesn’t complain as he slipped off the stool, offering a nod to both professor and hat before he makes his way from the front of the room. The group signaling him over looks nice enough at least, and were all smiling at him as Ernest made the journey over to the far end of the room. It becomes apparent how crowded the tables are though, as it doesn’t really seem like there was much space to be spared.

“Hey, over here!” Ernest’s head jerks as he hears someone yell, despite the fact that another student is already making their way to the front to be sorted. His eyes scann the area before landing on a boy who is frantically waving his hand at him, smiling wide. Ernest recognizes him from the train, they had even sat together on the boat ride over and Ernest racked his brain for the boys name. Justin, he believes. 

“Here, sit next to me”, the boy, no,  _ Justin _ says, patting the space next to him as Ernest approaches. He isn’t sure what has inspired the other boy to be so nice to him, as they hadn’t really spoken much on the train ride over despite the others rather outgoing personality. Other than his name, he doesn’t really know much about him, though he distinctly remembers he told  _ awful _ jokes.

“I can’t wait until the sorting is done”, the boy says, grinning. Ernest doesn’t  _ mean _ to give the boy a strange look, and quickly wipes it off his face.

“The older kids have been telling me there’s a big feast, and all the food is magically replaced”, he continues, noticing the look on Ernest’s face. “I’m Justin, remember? What did you say your name was again?”

“I remember”, Ernest says, making himself more comfortable in his seat. “And I’m Ernest Macmillan.”

“Oh, right, hey Ernie”, Justin replies, pausing at the applause that starts again as another student is sorted. Ernest is mildly shocked that he’s just been called  _ Ernie _ (his parents would  _ never _ allow a nickname) but he doesn’t bother commenting on it as he feebly claps for a girl who heads to the other side of the room. With a start, he realizes that it’s one of the girls he shared a boat with as well who has just been sorted into a different house than her sister. 

“Looks like they got split up after all”, Justin whispers to him, nodding his head to the front. “That must be hard. At least we have someone we know in our house.” Ernest turns to look at the boy next to him, nodding slowly. He supposes, technically he  _ does _ have someone he knows, or at least he knows  _ of _ , which is quite frankly better than nothing.

“Yeah, at least we have that”, he responds.

 

**Zacharias Smith wanted to be a Gryffindor.**

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“ _ What?” _

“You’ll thank me later.” Zacharias jumps off of the stool as the hat was taken away, looking to the professor,  _ McGonagall _ , if he remembered correctly. He hardly knows whether to ask if the hat just  _ talked _ to him or if the hat  _ has completely lost it’s magical mind. _

“He made a mistake”, he settles for.

“The sorting hat does not make mistakes Mr. Smith”, she says gently. “Please take your seat.” Despite the calmness in her voice, Zacharia doesn’t feel like she’s left much room for argument, and the few remaining students waiting in front of him are already shuffling impatiently. He can see the table against the left wall looking at him expectantly.

“Professor-”

“There’s a line, Mr.Smith”, McGonagall interrupts. “Now, please take your seat.” She’s already looking at the list to see who’s next, and if it weren’t for his fathers voice in his head reminding him to “Please, for once Zacharias,  _ behave _ ”, he would argue some more, but instead he simply straightens up and vows to see the headmaster later. Reluctantly, he heads to the Hufflepuff table. It all feels so  _ wrong _ . Zacharias’ father, and his father before him, had been sorted into the house donning scarlet and gold. Ever since he was a little boy he had imagined the day he would be sorted and take his rightful place at the table at the other end of the Great Hall.  _ Surely _ the hat was being rash or was confused or maybe just  _ tired _ and had made a mistake. He was sure all could be righted with a simple visit with the headmaster in the morning. After all, he knew for a fact that the headmaster had been in Gryffindor himself. Everything would be fine. He just had to make it through tonight.

“You can sit here if you’d like.” Zacharias was drawn out of his thoughts as he reached the Hufflepuff table. A girl with red hair running in a braid down her back was looking at him expectantly, indicating to a spot next to her on the crowded bench of students. Zacharias swallowed.

“Thanks”, he muttered, taking the seat, but angling his shoulder to make sure the girl knew he wasn’t in the mood for conversation. It seemed that she took the hint since she didn’t try to speak to him during the remainder of the ceremony. The students around him were chatting excitedly as the last student-some male who just  _ had _ to have a last name landing somewhere in the Z’s- was sorted into Slytherin before the headmaster stood to welcome and remind them of rules the majority of students probably wouldn’t follow. Finally it was time for dinner, and the room was filled with gasps and laughter as the dishes in front of them magically filled with delicious smelling food.

“Are you going to eat?” Zacharias glances at the girl next to him as she fills up her plate, tossing her braid over her shoulder. She’s giving him a kind smile, despite his obvious attempts to distance himself from her as much as possible. It’s the only thing that keeps him from asking the girl why she’s so concerned with his dietary habits.

“I don’t think so”, he says instead, looking at the food in front of him and pushing his plate towards the center of the table. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

  
  
  



End file.
